#something something food something something consuming

[britcision]

I mean listen

Listen

I love literally every single thing about this and I will be adding this to my soulcanon

But there is just one quibble:

The heart not being active is a key component of a LOT of vampire lore

They have no pulse so when you press your head tenderly to their chest you get jack shit, or sometimes an extremely slow, extremely feeble beat

(Them 1-in-100 normal beat vampires clearly have active hearts so they’re fine but like. Classic vamps? Often no heart beat as a core identifying feature)

And. Vampires are typically unable to consume any human food, not just unwilling

Also, blood isn’t especially nutrient-dense compared to other foods, but y’know what it is full of? Pre-digested nutrients fully ready to be taken directly to the organs, no further disassembly required

(Blood is mostly protein and has 7g per 100mL vs a peanut’s 26g per 100g, and peanuts also have way more fat which is vitally important because that is where the energy comes from)

Real convenient if, say… your digestive system is no longer for digesting

SO

May I propose:

The stomach has taken the place of the heart and this is another reason why they must ingest blood, because they are ALSO known for not breathing and it is so inconvenient to oxygenate all that blood when you can simply go steal someone else’s pre-oxygenated-blood

The digestive system is already majorly focused on touching as much blood as possible to get nutrients in, just a couple convenient wee ulcers and now you can pump blood directly in and out of the stomach wall and then what is your heart for?

Decoration

(And staking, which is interesting because it does almost always occur in conjunction with the heart not beating lore, so they’re not using it but it is still emotionally important? Or it’s doing Something Else)

Honestly peristalsis is all about muscles clenching in rhythm anyway all it needs is to be dialed up and suddenly the extra-diffused circulatory system (because of using many smaller arteries than just two) can also help to more centrally control blood flow, which may contribute to healing factors

Send less blood to that gaping wound, or MORE with additional platelets and replace the volume by feeding immediately and bam

This is also why vampires can’t build normal muscle or body fat, since they’re simply not taking in nutrients through any process that allows for excess storage, which is why no matter how much blood they drink or cars they yeet you see so many vampire twinks

You can maintain your existing human muscle mass, but the cancer simply is not affecting the growth of muscle cells, or every vampire would be an ever-expanding ball of muscle fit to make a bodybuilder weep

The only remaining issue is hyping up the immune system to deal with potentially keeping the cancer in check and dealing with those inconvenient blood types…

vampire who’s married to an archaeologist voice: my love, stop trying to carbon date me

[milkoomi]

inner glow up. ᥫ᭡

while we focus on our physical selves to glow up, we tend to forget about our minds and hearts. we also need to focus on letting more light come into ourselves. the way we think, the way we love, the way we expend our energy; all of that can have this aspect of “glowing up” too! in this post, we’re going to discuss how to glow from within and let that beautiful new energy radiate outwards.

let’s begin …

୨ৎ — the mind

deep clean your thoughts

meditation:

take a moment, even if it’s just for 5 minutes, to sit and clear your head. focus on breathing exercises, concentrate on the rhythm of your heart, listen to the ambient noises of your surroundings. meditation is a fantastic way of clearing your mind and removing those overwhelming thoughts that are piling up in your brain! you also don’t need to be sitting, you could also meditate while in the shower! i have an entire guide on how to do so! you can also take meditative walks and focus on your surroundings.

journaling:

just dump all your thoughts onto a page, write down everything that’s on your mind. once you’re done you can even rip up the paper and toss it away! doing these journal dumps can help release those racing thoughts and clear your mind. it may even help to relieve some weight off your shoulders!

decorate your mind with peace & kindness

write down affirmations or go to a mirror and say those affirmations to yourself! fill your head with positive thoughts and calming reassurance.

try recording a voice message & send it to yourself! you can say your affirmations that way or give yourself a motivational mini-speech. this way, you can go back to those messages when you need an uplifting message from someone. and it’s always better to get back up with kindness and love from yourself!

organize your headspace

make room for positivity, peace, and grace and throw out all the negativity that’s tossed around in your head. don’t let negative talk from others, media, or yourself take up space in your head! your mind should never hold a spot for negativity.

distance yourself from those who bring you down

delete social media that no longer serves you or take regular breaks to unplug from your phone

replace negative self-talk with positive affirmations

replace “i can’t” with “i can”

୨ৎ — the heart

nurture your heart

as your mind is an important place to keep thoughts of joy, kindness, and love, your heart needs to feel it!

practice self care

take care of your physical needs (shower, drink water, brush your teeth, eat nutritious and delicious foods, move your body)

write yourself love letters

say “thank you” when receiving compliments

provide protection for your feelings

your heart is scared and access to it should be very limited. don’t let just anyone in. now, i’m not saying you have to put iron walls up around your heart and feelings, but i’m saying that you need to be selective. be picky about who you surround yourself with.

invite people who…

provide genuine & unconditional love

support you and your dreams

encourage you to prioritize your health (physical & mental)

offer guidance when you feel lost

close the doors on people who…

make jokes out of your insecurities

take your passions and dreams as something to laugh about

invalidate your feelings and thoughts

think it’s okay to walk all over you

don’t value your time and space

୨ৎ — letting in the light

i believe our energies attract different things whether we want them to or not. letting dark or bad energy ruminate within yourself and allowing it to consume you can attract misfortune, loss, and sadness which keeps us from reaching our true potential.

let light or good energy flow within you and let that energy be the one that takes up all the space. you’ll attract what you actually want rather than the things you wish to avoid.

light energy can come from…

taking up hobbies you enjoy

listening to music that makes you feel good

spending time with loved ones

going on nature walks

playing with pets

celebrating your accomplishments

final notes —

the biggest take away from this: protect your peace. becoming the best version of yourself comes with knowing how to find peace within yourself and making sure you show yourself love and kindness. the main person you should lean on for that kind of good energy should be you. let your glow up start from within!

with lots of love, faustina 🌷

[favefandomimagines]

I Know Places 2 (r.c)

Summary: Rafe goes to Y/N at the bait shop and his presence is not celebrated

AN: part 2 of ‘I Know Places’ and I’m deciding to go the traditional route! I’m used to the old school way of fics so this will be fully written out and not SMAU! Though I do love how that’s on trend right now!

Previous part

The next morning, Y/N Maybank was up before the sun had fully risen, her mind too restless for sleep. She had spent the night tossing and turning, debating whether or not to tell JJ and the Pogues about what happened at Tannyhill. It wasn’t that she wanted to keep secrets—she just didn’t know how to explain the strange feeling of being pulled into Rafe Cameron’s world, if only for a fleeting moment.

By the time the bait shop was ready to open, she was already elbow-deep in her morning routine: feeding the live bait, checking inventory, and wiping down the counters.

Summer was here, which meant the shop would soon be crawling with locals and tourists alike, and she needed everything to be in order.

The small bell above the door jingled, pulling her attention away from the tank of minnows. She glanced up to see Rafe Cameron standing in the doorway. His broad shoulders filled the frame, his usual air of arrogance replaced by something quieter.

“Hey, Pretty Girl,” he said, a faint smirk tugging at his lips.

Y/N quirked a brow, unsure whether to be annoyed or amused. “Rafe Cameron on the Cut? You must’ve hit your head harder than I thought.”

“Funny,” he replied, stepping closer. “How’s business?”

“It’s early,” she said flatly, then tilted her head. “How’s your head?”

“Better,” Rafe said, though his hand instinctively went to touch the bandage she had applied the night before. “Still aches.”

“Maybe now you’ll listen to me and see a doctor,” Y/N said, crossing her arms. “What if you’ve got brain damage? You must have if you thought coming here was a good idea.”

Rafe chuckled under his breath, but his expression quickly sobered. “I need to talk to you about last night.”

Y/N set the container of fish food on the counter, her brows knitting together. “What do you mean?”

Rafe leaned against the counter, his blue eyes scanning the shop briefly before landing back on her. “How many people did you see leave the house?”

“Three,” she said slowly, thinking back to the shadowy figures slipping through the side gate. “They looked like men, but I couldn’t see their faces. They had black hoods on.”

She watched as Rafe’s jaw tightened and his eyes clouded over, clearly running through a mental list of possibilities. It didn’t take a genius to realize there was more to the break-in than he was letting on.

“Are you in some kind of trouble?” Y/N asked, her voice softer now.

Rafe shook his head quickly. “No. Don’t worry about it.”

“Rafe, someone broke into your house and assaulted you. You need to tell Shoupe,” Y/N said firmly.

“I’m sure they didn’t find what they were looking for,” he replied cryptically.

“What does that even mean?”

Rafe ignored the question, shifting his weight uncomfortably. “I just... I wanted to see you. And to thank you again for helping me last night.”

Y/N blinked, caught off guard by the sincerity in his tone. “It’s no problem,” she said, though her voice faltered slightly. “But you should probably go before JJ finds you talking to me.”

“Do you always do what JJ wants?” Rafe asked, but there was no malice in his voice.

Y/N hesitated, his question catching her off guard. Did people really think that? “No,” she said finally, a small smile tugging at her lips. “It’s just that a fight is bad for business.”

Rafe returned her smile, a rare softness in his expression. He pulled out his phone and handed it to her. “Here. Put your number in. You know, in case I need another house call.”

Y/N stared at him for a moment, her instinct screaming at her to say no. But Rafe seemed... different. The last time they’d spoken, he’d been consumed by grief and arrogance, still reeling from his father’s death and struggling to take over the family business. But now, he seemed calmer—more grounded, though still carrying an edge.

She grabbed his phone and began typing her number. Her head was screaming at her to not do it, don’t give him access. But she did it anyway.

“Rafe?”

Both their heads snapped toward the dock, where Sarah Cameron was walking toward the shop. Rafe stepped back from Y/N, his demeanor instantly shifting.

“What are you doing here?” Sarah asked, her gaze narrowing suspiciously.

“Thought someone broke into the house last night,” Rafe said smoothly. “I knew you parked outside when you went to that party, so I came to see if you saw anything.”

Before Sarah could respond, Y/N interjected. “I already told him I didn’t see anything. We were still at the party when it happened.”

“Someone broke into the house? Did they take anything? Are you okay?” Sarah questioned. “I’m fine. It didn’t look like they took anything. Just a window and a door I have to replace.” Rafe answered.

“I uh, gotta go, I’ll see you around.” He added, his gaze fleetingly on Y/N.

He walked past Sarah and up the dock, leaving Y/N standing there, her heart pounding for reasons she couldn’t fully understand.

“Was he bothering you?” Sarah asked, stepping into the shop.

“No, no,” Y/N said quickly. “He just wanted to ask if we saw anything.”

But even as she spoke, she couldn’t shake the feeling that Rafe’s visit meant something more. And as much as she hated to admit it, she didn’t entirely mind.

“JJ is going to freak when he finds out.” Sarah commented. “We don’t need to tell him. I’m sure Rafe came here looking for you but I was here.” Y/N quickly replied.

As Sarah stepped closer, Y/N busied herself with the container of fish food on the counter, her mind racing. She could still feel the heat of Rafe’s presence lingering in the room, and her stomach twisted at the thought of Sarah catching onto something she hadn’t even figured out herself.

“What’s going on?” Sarah asked, crossing her arms as she studied her friend.

Y/N shrugged nonchalantly, hoping her casual demeanor would be enough to shut the conversation down. “Nothing.”

“Since when does Rafe come to you for answers?” Sarah’s tone was skeptical, her piercing gaze making Y/N feel like she was under a microscope. “And why didn’t he just ask me?”

“Maybe because you were at the party too?” Y/N said, raising a brow. “I don’t know, Sarah. He didn’t exactly give me his whole life story.”

Sarah frowned but didn’t press further, instead moving to grab a soda from the mini fridge behind the counter. “Still... I don’t like him showing up out of nowhere like that.”

Y/N let out a short laugh, trying to lighten the mood. “What, you think he’s gonna rob the bait shop? Pretty sure we’re not hiding any family heirlooms in the minnow tank.”

Sarah snorted, but her expression remained thoughtful as she leaned against the counter. “I just don’t trust him, Y/N. You know how he is.”

Y/N hesitated, her fingers fidgeting with the edge of her shirt. Sarah wasn’t wrong—Rafe Cameron was trouble. He always had been. But last night, when he was bleeding and vulnerable, he didn’t feel like the same guy she’d written off.

“Yeah, I know,” Y/N said quietly. “But he’s your brother, Sarah. He can’t be all bad.”

Sarah gave her a sharp look, clearly not expecting that response. “You’re defending Rafe now?”

Y/N shook her head quickly. “No, I’m not defending him. I’m just saying... people can change, right?”

Before Sarah could respond, the bell above the door jingled again, and John B strolled in, followed closely by JJ, who was still rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

“Morning, ladies,” John B greeted with a grin, grabbing a bag of chips from the shelf. “What’s the gossip?”

“Rafe was here,” Sarah said bluntly, making both boys freeze in their tracks. Y/N glared at her friend, eyes saying ‘why the hell would you do that?’

“What?” JJ’s tone immediately turned sharp as he walked over to Y/N. “Why the hell was Rafe Cameron here?”

“Someone broke into his house,” Y/N said quickly, trying to downplay the situation. “Wanted to know if we saw anything suspicious last night. That’s it.”

JJ’s jaw clenched, and he let out a humorless laugh. “Since when does he care about what we saw? He’s up to something.”

“Relax, J,” Y/N said, placing a hand on his arm. “He wasn’t here to start trouble. He just... wanted answers.”

“Well, he better not come around again,” JJ muttered darkly, his protective instincts kicking in. “I don’t care what he wants. You don’t need to be talking to him.”

Y/N bristled at his tone, but before she could respond, Sarah spoke up. “Let’s not make this a thing. Rafe’s gone, and he’s not coming back here.”

JJ muttered something under his breath, clearly still annoyed, but he let it go for now. Y/N, however, felt a tinge of annoyance in her chest. She loved her brother, and it was just the two of them at the end of the day so it makes sense he’s protective. But he’s not her father, she’s 20 years old, she doesn’t need her brother telling her who she can and can’t talk to.

||

The fire crackled softly, its orange glow casting warm shadows on the Pogues as they lounged in the cool evening air. John B was sprawled out on the sand with Sarah curled up beside him, their laughter intertwining as they recounted the story of JJ’s infamous fight with Topper outside the country club.

“And then Shoupe shows up, and Y/N’s out here sweet-talking him like she’s auditioning for a soap opera!” JJ exclaimed, throwing his hands in the air for emphasis.

“Sweet-talking?” Y/N interjected from the hammock, her tone dripping with mock offense as she rolled another joint. “I’ll have you know I was using logic and reason to keep your ass out of juvie.”

Kie snorted. “Logic and reason? You told Shoupe Topper started it and then cried about how JJ was just trying to defend your honor.”

“Exactly,” Y/N said with a smug grin. “And it worked, didn’t it?”

JJ grinned back, leaning over to flick sand at her. “I owe you for that one, Sunshine.”

“Damn right you do,” Y/N quipped, expertly twisting the joint closed.

The group dissolved into another round of laughter, the kind that came easy after a long day and a few too many hits. Pope was stoking the fire while Cleo leaned against him, teasing him about his terrible impression of Shoupe. It was one of those rare nights where everything felt simple—just them, the stars, and the stories they carried.

“Hey, Sunshine!” JJ called, breaking through the chatter. “Toss me one of those masterpieces!”

Y/N smirked, flicking the newly rolled joint in his direction. JJ caught it with ease, holding it up like a trophy before lighting it.

As she reached for another paper, her phone buzzed against her thigh. She picked it up without much thought, her heart skipping a beat when she saw the name.

Rafe.

The text was simple but enough to tug at her carefully guarded smile.

RC: Hey, Pretty Girl.

Y/N: Can I help you, Cameron?

RC: What are you doin’?

Y/N: Currently? I’m rolling a joint.

RC: Lol, save one for me?

Y/N: Maybe.

The next text froze her in place.

RC: Just wondering, is asking you out against doctor’s orders?

Her breath hitched, her mind racing. Was Rafe Cameron—Rafe Cameron—really asking her out? She stared at her phone for a moment too long, trying to process what this meant.

Y/N: Hm, that might be bad for your health

RC: What if we don’t tell anyone?

This wasn’t the Rafe she’d known before. The old Rafe was reckless, arrogant, and self-absorbed. But now? He felt different, quieter. Something had shifted, and Y/N couldn’t quite put her finger on it.

RC: Did I lose you, Pretty Girl?

She glanced around the fire. Her friends were laughing, oblivious, completely immersed in the stories of summers past. Sarah was teasing John B about his failed attempts at surfing, JJ was leaning back with a lazy grin, and Kie was high enough to be softly singing to herself.

Y/N was the odd one out—always had been in a way. The one without a partner, without a storybook romance. And yet, there was something undeniable about the way her chest had tightened in Rafe’s bathroom, how she’d felt something she couldn’t ignore.

Y/N: Better plan a good date

The reply came seconds later.

RC: Is that a yes?

Y/N: It’s a yes. Don’t mess it up.

Y/N set her phone down, the smallest of smiles playing on her lips as she leaned back in the hammock.

“Who are you texting?” Kie’s voice came from beside her, making Y/N jump. Kie had slid into the hammock, her eyes glassy but curious.

“My cousin,” Y/N lied smoothly, reaching for another paper. “We need more weed, and he’s got the good stuff.”

Kie leaned her head on Y/N’s shoulder, her movements sluggish. “You know you can tell me anything, right?”

Y/N froze, the lie suddenly feeling heavy in her chest. “Of course, Kie,” she murmured, though her voice felt hollow.

“You’re my best friend,” Kie continued, her words slurring slightly. “You and me, we’re a team, yeah?”

“Yeah,” Y/N said softly, guilt twisting in her stomach.

But as Kie drifted into a half-asleep haze against her shoulder, Y/N’s thoughts drifted back to Rafe. Whatever this was, it wasn’t something she could tell them. Not yet. Maybe not ever.

[savourandswell]

Dude you dissapeared just few months and you blew up!! What the hell did u do this time? So hot and inspiring! Congrats!

HAHA I knowwwwww. I can honestly say it just kind of… happened. I wasn’t trying, the weight just keeps coming. Thinking about my routine though, there are a few tips I have for anyone aspiring to or struggling to gain. So here they are…

WEIGHT GAIN TIPS FROM SAVOURANDSWELL

#1. 🥛MILK🥛:

I love milk. The value of milk to growing and maintaining my weight cannot be overstated. I consider it the most important aspect. A litre of whole milk contains anywhere from 650-850 calories, nearly double that if it’s Half&Half. SODA DOESN’T COME CLOSE TO NUMBERS LIKE THAT‼️ That’s not even to mention how nutritious milk is, you’ll get fatter, but somehow feel fitter. Trust me- if you want some easy gains, drink less soda and more milk.

#2. ❌No Small Snacks❌:

Small snacks will sabotage your appetite. If you’re hungry but all you have available is a packet of chips or some fruit? Leave them, stay hungry. Let that feeling grow- let your mind be consumed by the thought of food and wait until you have the chance to eat a real meal. You’ll eat far more calories then than if you’d given in for a paltry couple hundred.

#3. ⬆️BIG Meals & Eat Them Quickly⬆️:

If you can handle it, cut out snacks completely and eat 2-3 big meals a day. Your stomach will struggle to feel a difference between a huge amount of calories eaten far apart and a small amount eaten regularly throughout the day- but the scales will notice. 6000 calories spread across 3 meals will leave you feeling no more full than 2500 spread through small meals and snacks.

When you do eat your meals, EAT FAST. None should take much longer than 15-20 minutes, if they do, your body will start to feel it and your appetite will fail. I love to savour my food- but I save that for fancy dinners and sessions with a partner. If you want to gain, eat quickly and without very much thought at all. That leads me to my next point-

#4. 📱Eat Mindlessly📱

Don’t think too much when you eat, not even about how much you’re enjoying the food. There’s a real and powerful connection between mind and body- if you’re truly aware of how much food you’re eating, you will feel more full. Try not think about it, distract yourself by watching a movie, or YouTube, or talking to someone. Have all your food ready next to you, and shovel it in while you focus on something else.

#5. 💤Eat Your Biggest Meal Just Before You Sleep💤

Conventional wisdom states that eating before you sleep will make you fatter because your body is more sedentary- that doesn’t really make much sense, a calorie is a calorie regardless of when you eat it. HOWEVER, much of my previous advice will be perfectly applied by eating at this time. You will have had to wait quite a while between meals to eat at this time, making you very hungry. You will be tired, helping you to eat mindlessly. Besides that- you will get the pure bliss of descending into a sweet food coma every night, and leave just enough time for you to wake up hungry all over again.

Well, that’s it. Some quick tips from savourandswell. They may not feel applicable to you, they may even seem undesirable for the kind of lifestyle you want to live… HEY, that’s fine, no problem. This is just one fat guys tips, there are tons of ways to gain weight and mine may not work for everyone- but it’s worked for me, and that’s worth considering. Good luck ;)

[animinarts]

Small detail from episode 21

- Something interesting in this scene is that even though Shouma consumed a sweet there was no Gochizo that was produced due to him not being happy while eating

- The Gochizos were even waiting for their new sibling but were confused when no Gochizo was produced

- The Gochizos are the manifestation of his joy of eating food which is why the Caking form is the strongest as of this episode

- Seeing Shouma so dismal that he can’t even enjoy his beloved snacks and sweets is really heartbreaking to see

[thatnonameuser]

Ooh, do you feel like any of the yans would try to keep their darling ill by giving them minor poisons, so they can't go outside or try to escape? Like, they put it in their darling's water or food to make them feverish or lethargic.

(I can particularly picture this with Trey, Vil, or Jamil maybe Epel's family if they help him keep his darling captive at Harveston)

Absolutely!

There has to be some kind of mystique about you being sick and vulnerable. Being so helpless against whatever they could do to you, dependent on them for aid and, should you try to resist, they can make your sickness worse so that they can have more aforementioned.

To add, Munchausen by proxy might be a common occurrence in the yandereverse, though the disorder is warped to have the attention of the people they make ill, their darlings. It's surprisingly common, with such a wide variety of potions and over-the counter medications there are for weakening a darling, it’s very easy for some yanderes to attain the medicine and magic necessary to do so, like from pharmacies or being taught how to make them in schools.

With that being said, Trey is definitely one of them. (he’s kind of already done it before) Going on the current canon I’ve written, he’s already been using magic to cause you to have constant fainting spells and fatigue requires you to get help if it continues as much as it does, (It’ll get worse), Once you’re in his grasp, you won’t have a choice but to accept whatever he’s giving you and all it takes to start it is you trusting him enough to not think twice of him putting something into whatever you eat.

Vil is definitely another, with his UM and potion prowess, he’s able to make you debilitatingly ill without you even having to consume whatever he gives you. It also gives him the ability to help you become more ‘perfect’ under the guise of making you better, (There's also something beautiful about you being ‘pallid’ from sickness) I think he might not just do it for the reason of simply being obsessed with you. You being ill keeps you from interacting with his crazy fanbase, so the longer you’re ‘ill’ the safer you are from the public eye.

If Book 4 taught me anything, it’s that Jamil is very good at manipulating and sickness makes that easier. He’ll use his own knowledge on poison tasting to hide milder poisons into what you might eat or drink, and after that he can enjoy the effects of you being dependent. Best of all, in his case at least, should you attempt to fight/rebel against him (probably saying you can take care of yourself) he’ll give you what you ask for while making your ailment more debilitating. What better way to make you dependent and helpless than by tricking you into needing his aid, and turning you against yourself by tricking you into thinking that you are the one ‘in the wrong’.

Regarding Epel’s family, or families in general poisoning you, (originally a throw away line, but I can make it work) while the guys will probably need to earn your trust, you’re more comfortable around their families. Bad move, stupid even. But watching the sons deal with you being difficult is hard to watch.

For Epel’s meemaw, Marja probably used the old ‘spiked’ apple cider trick to marry his Peepaw, so of course she’s gonna help out where she can. And a warm cup of cider after being out in the freezing cold is usually a welcome and very innocuous way to trick someone into consuming something that will make them suddenly too sick to travel. Plus, her age and demeanour helps, making her seem like a caring old lady just worried for a cold houseguest (that just happens to be her grandson’s one true love) nothing for you to be suspicious about.

[probably-flowers-and-cats]

it happens. sometimes. very rarely, so he has no reasons to be concerned about it. the days when everything feels heavy, when every move seems impossible, and breathing goes almost silent — it's still present, Sakura is still alive, no worries, it's just harder to do. the days when he doesn't feel like eating, coming outside, talking. only sleeping. to curl into the ball under the thin blanket, let the darkness consume him, and he finally can drift away into nothingness that gives him the much needed sense of tranquility.

the thing is he's not alone anymore.

before Makochi, no one was worried when he didn't show up in school or outside of his room. no one cared.

Makochi is different.

the day comes, eventually, and drags him under the blanket into the void of exhaustion, breathing drains his last drops of energy, and he slowly slips away into anxious sleep, full of images from his past.

Sakura wakes up soft and warm.

his house smells of food, and he hears muffled voices in the kitchenette of his, voices familiar. curtains closed, and he didn't remember touching them. on the table Kiryu brought weeks ago he sees tea and some sweets from shops nearby. Sakura frowns.

who?..

"you're awake," Suo's voice comes before Sakura sees his friend. Nirei follows Suo, and Sakura pulls himself to sit up and face them properly at least. he tries to say something in reply, but Suo shakes his head. "you're tired. don't exhaust yourself more than you've done already."

probably, the puzzled expression gives him away.

"you're not that subtle as you think, Sakura-kun. it's always piling up and eventually buries you under the rubber of everything you've tried to carry on your own."

what the damn are they talking about?

"we've noticed," Nirei says, placing plates on the table, "that you've been more silent than usual and it became harder for you to keep up with everything. it's fine, we've got your back," Nirei's grin looks like his usual one, but Sakura feels hidden sorrow behind it.

"I don't understand," Sakura finally lets words slip, ignoring how every one of them feels heavier than previous. "what are you guys talking about?" Suo and Nirei exchange look, and this one even for him is obvious — they're not just mad or upset, they're devastated and livid, and yet it's not addressed to him. for him they show only gentleness when Nirei tucks his blanket tighter and Suo turns and gives him freshly poured cup of tea, smelling of honey and flowers.

"we'll explain it to you later, Sakura-kun. for now, please, rest. we will be here when you wake up."

the tea Suo brewed seems to have magic in it, because the next moment after he finishes the cup, the sleep comes and it's much more softer than before.

he dreams of the green field, flowers, and friends, holding him tight and dearly.

gotta admit I didn't plan on giving Sakura such bad days when having one but luckily he has Suo and Nirei now, and they'll explain to him that nothing goes unnoticed and always leaves a trace. his past included, years of everything finally catching up to him, and refection he faced, pain, and isolation — it won't be soothed in one night, but, again, he's not alone anymore.

(Suo and Nirei, hug him and shower and love and care, pls)

[cutekittenlady]

Also, for the love of god, WRITE STUFF DOWN.

Go out and buy a decent notebook and begin keeping a nightly journal. A digital journal could work but I recommend a physical diary as its, in a way, more private and can't be easily deleted remotely or by accident while clearing your computer stash.

I recommend this because we NEED to keep personal records of our experiences and whats happened to us and our communities. Most importantly write how you feel and how you think.

Make no mistake there WILL be history books. This moment in time will be researched in the decades to come and the stuff we write down, the art we create, the things we care about and what is important to us, will be vital in helping to preserve just how reviled this administration and its policies were in the times they happened.

Furthermore don't just doomscroll through the news. Stay as informed as you can, but try not to let it consume you.

Study history; not just the third reich, but the fall of rome and other times things seemed to be coming to an "end" and take heart in the knowledge that their was an "afterwards". They're may have been the dark ages, but there was also the enlightenment after all.

And study art! So much art. Make some yourself if you can. It doesnt have to be good. It can be crude. Silly little stick figures and doodles, but let yourself create things. Bake things that come out a little wrong. Knit scarves that are frayed. Paint something silly and amateurish.

Look up philosophy to help you come to terms with the things going on in the world right now and maybe even find ways to combat it.

Support your local library in anyway you can. Such places are VITAL to the coming years and will be essential in keeping ourselves informed and active and help us organize.

Importanly look after yourself and your community. Not just their safety but their health. Organize food drives, swap groceries, start a personal garden, etc. Help share what healthcare resources you can find, point people towards areas of safety and support, learn mend your old clothes and give them away when needed.

Building a base of relative safety and healthy support is going to be vital in the upcoming years and every little bit helps.

[hrrtshape]

coriolanus snow in my dr : a case study (???)

౨ৎ  i know coryo now!!!!! not good for everyone else. like, biblically adjacent. i have stared into the abyss of his collarbones and nearly blacked out from sheer spiritual overload during lunch ! i had to physically restrain myself, clawed at my own wrist, bit my tongue, to stop myself from stamping thirteen hickeys across his aristocratic little throat like a feral creature marking its territory when i first him.

he is so real. more than real. beyond suzanne collins' ink, beyond the tragic orchestration of his future atrocities in other...universes. here, in the very exclusive, very avant-garde dimensional hotspot that is my better cr dr, he is not just coriolanus snow....future ceo heir. he is coryo. my coryo!!!!! and sometimes he slouches ⋆

　　　　　　　　　　  ⊹　 ︶︶　 ୨୧　 ︶︶　 ⊹

❛ backstory : his parents are old money, the kind that moves in silence because it has nothing to prove. no desperate new-rich ostentation, just power so entrenched in the social fabric that it seeps into his every gesture, his every breath. his mother, a socialite with a steel-trap memory and a tongue sharper than a guillotine, collects secrets like they’re baccarat crystal. his father...okay. actually. terrifying. the kind of man who bets entire fortunes like they’re poker chips, who calculates risk with a gambler’s intuition and a warlord’s ruthlessness. tigris wasn’t lying when she said his father held hate in his eyes. coryo learned young that money isn’t the prize. it’s the battlefield. also, his grandma’am owns an unfathomably chic flower boutique, the kind of place where orchids cost more than your rent.

　　　unconventional investigative journalism ! . . . ୨୧

◞ signature scent : bdk parfums’ gris charnel, the kind of fragrance that clings to cashmere like a well-kept secret. ink stains on silk shirts, warm cardamom, a whisper of bergamot before it settles into sandalwood and smoked tea. expensive, but not ostentatious. it lingers, it haunts. smells like the kind of man who leaves an open book on the nightstand, spine cracked just so.

◞ phone model (important!!!) : iphone purist, but it’s always the second-to-latest model. not out of financial constraint (please), but because he simply does not care about such pedestrian flexes. midnight black iphone 15, no case, the edges kissed by a few strategic scratches from careless, absentminded tosses onto marble countertops.

◞ handwriting : so precise it could be a forged renaissance manuscript. slanted, deliberate, almost ecclesiastical in its elegance. when rushed, it collapses into a series of esoteric glyphs that only he and his exhausted professors can decipher.

◞ academic (from a person who's definitely not biased) : always at the top, but never in a way that suggests effort. knowledge just seeps into his bones. writes entire essays in his head and transcribes them last minute. annotations in the margins oscillate between philosophical musings and sardonic commentary. highlighters are strictly monochrome, because colour-coding is for the weak.

◞ basketball quirks : moves like he’s solving an equation in real time. effortless shots, a preternatural understanding of angles and velocity. runs a hand through his hair before free throws, because of course he does. plays like it’s not even a game, but an elegant and calculated dismantling of his opponent.

◞ food (yes i stalked him...basically) : not a sugar fiend, but catches himself reaching for dark chocolate when he thinks no one’s watching. black coffee as a baseline, but if you hand him something absurdly sweet, he’ll wrinkle his nose and then consume it with the begrudging efficiency of a man fulfilling a contract. this is known. this is proven.

◞ musical taste : classical, but only the kind that sounds like a man going through it in a candlelit room. bach (the kind with an organ), tchaikovsky (the kind with a death wish). 2000s indie sleaze. interpol, the strokes, arctic monkeys. jazz. hans zimmer when he’s feeling grandiose. kanye, travis scott, 90s rap when he needs to remind himself he is, in fact, a menace.

◞ can solve a rubik’s cube in under two minutes but insists it’s a useless skill.

◞ always has a pen on him. you’ve stolen at least three.

◞ stands at a slight angle when talking, like he’s perpetually calculating the optimal way to exist in space.

◞ (before my shift so this is from a memory i got there) gave me his jacket in an offhanded way, like it was nothing. later, i caught him watching me wear it with something unreadable in his expression.

◞ knows how to play poker, and you will not beat him at it.

◞ never brags, but when he does something impressive, he looks at me like he’s waiting for me to say something. i just raise an eyebrow.

◞ drives a black aston martin vantage (i know this...because he drove me once. one hand on the wheel, the other resting on the gear shift, eyes flicking to the rearview mirror like he’s tracking something unseen. moan.)

◞ taps his pen against his lips when he’s thinking.

◞ looks obscenely good in knitwear. wool coats that make him look like a damn film protagonist.

◞ he doesn’t do hobbies; he does obsessions. he also does chess, poker, fencing. anything that requires strategy and the slow, tantalising art of victory. he's also in model UN. obviously.

◞ wears glasses sometimes. looks as hot as it sounds.

　　　physicality (moan!!!!) . . . ୨୧

◞ 6'3. an affront to reason, a structural hazard, a measurement that demands architectural consideration. the kind of height that turns even the tallest into something delicate by comparison.

◞ athletic, but not in an 'i woke up like this' way. this is intentional. muscle sculpted through discipline, through an almost monastic devotion to control. broad shoulders that make sweaters drape like they were sketched onto him. strong forearms, obviously. his back... indecently, needlessly, artfully carved.

◞ his hands...sigh...perpetually in his pockets, except when he leans in to murmur something just a fraction too close, fully aware of the effect. arms crossed when listening, jaw tightening when irritated (devastatingly attractive, i wanted to immortalise it).

◞ shoe size !!!!! likely 45 (us 12), possibly 46 (us 13). yes, i looked. for science.

◞ rolls up his sleeves with surgical precision, just enough to expose forearms that should require a warning label, yet feigns indifference.

◞ his hands are a problem. strong, elegant, unjust. fingers slightly calloused from basketball, fencing, lifting. YES, I TOOK NOTES.

　　　red flags that i'm way too prepared for . . . ୨୧

◞ pathological overachiever syndrome, but the toxic kind. the “i will seethe in silence if i score a 99 instead of 100” kind. the “i wrote a whole new essay because i found my first one merely excellent instead of transcendent” kind. the “if you beat me at chess i will lose sleep over it for weeks but mask it under a detached smirk” kind.

◞ emotional repression so severe it could be classified as a gothic affliction. you will never know what he’s actually thinking unless you study him like a victorian poet studies phrenology. his version of vulnerability is allowing you to witness a fraction of his turmoil through the clench of his jaw or the way he lingers just a little too long before walking away.

◞ never says “i’m sorry,” just reappears with a grand gesture like he’s starring in a cinematic reconciliation arc. (he is.) will quote poetry or latin at you instead of apologising. will scoff at grand romantic ideals but embodies one against his will.

◞ ego so finely constructed it could be displayed in the louvre. never gaudy, never loud, just a quiet, unshakable belief in his own superiority. not in a way that begs for external validation. no, he already knows. he doesn’t need you to tell him he’s exceptional, but oh, he does like it when you try to prove him wrong.

◞ has a god complex (freak matches freak), but a sexy one. not the loud, abrasive kind. no, his is an old-money god complex, the kind that sits in the corner of a candlelit room, flipping the pages of some antique tome, exuding the silent certainty that the world will always orbit him, whether you realise it or not.

◞ control issues so severe they could be submitted for psychological study. must be the one driving, must be the one deciding, must be the one orchestrating. lets you have your way when it amuses him, but only then. will convince you it was your choice all along.

　　　i , the cold war . . . ୨୧

lily-rose called it first: the cold war. and she was right. me, french-russian (yes, i’ve returned from shifting with improved french!!!) with an arsenal of toothy grins. him, american, arrogance lacquered over his intellect like a second skin. we’re both rich, both brilliant, both locked in a knowing, unbearable awareness of each other. the air crackles.

but it’s not just rivalry. never was. never could be.

when me and coryo stand too close, no one can tell if we’re about to argue or kiss. our verbal sparring sounds suspiciously like flirtation... because it is. because beneath the ego clashes and competitive theatrics, we are, devastatingly, undeniably, more allies than adversaries. we always sit together at lunch, insisting it’s because all our other friends do. but let’s be serious.

before all this, though, we were just kids. 10, maybe 9, maybe 8, whatever. he lived near me. i annoyed him on principle. it was schroeder and lucy, textbook. then i moved to paris. when i came back at 14, things weren’t the same. something brittle in the air. something unsaid.

　　　ii , the dynamic . . . ୨୧

smart vs. smart : we’re both intelligent. that’s a given. but he’s the type of smart that’s ice-cold, precise, a grandmaster orchestrating a hundred simultaneous chess games. and....... my intelligence is chaos and charm, the kind people underestimate right up until i win. he respects it. i weaponise it. it’s mathematics versus poetry. it’s yang and yin. it’s whatever we are, and it works. so well !!!!

arrogance vs. playfulness : he’s arrogance incarnate, but god, he can back it up. me? i’m unserious. i’m babyfaced. i laugh my way through everything, until suddenly i don’t. and then i win. which unravels him. which makes him question the foundations of reality. which is hilarious. (and no, he doesn’t let me win. i think.)

proximity that means too much : we always sit next to each other. always. in every class we share. no one believes it’s incidental. when we argue, it’s close-range, like neither of us is willing to cede even a millimetre of ground.

　　　iii , things that happened during my shift . . . ୨୧

◞ day one, i gave him a nosebleed. a necessary act of narrative tension.

◞ walking to class, his arm slung over my shoulder. unsanctioned contact. if i were a weaker woman, i would have perished on the spot.

◞ watched him play basketball. died immediately.

◞ accidental hand touch. suffered cardiac arrest.

◞ someone told us to get a room. we ignored it. violently.

　　　iv , what everyone sees vs. what's actually happening . . . ୨୧

what they see : two rivals, locked in constant combat, neither willing to surrender, neither willing to blink.

what’s actually happening : two idiots thinking about each other too much. best friends pretending not to be. two inevitable something-or-others, blind to the fact that they are careening towards each other like a greek tragedy.

ok goodbye i'm going back to my better cr now or else i'll die

[smilesession]

I’ve been using rateyourmusic for a decade, as a person who experiences the behavioral and cognitive framework generally understood as OCD, autism, and schizotypal and so easily immersed into the ordering and categorization system it offers. i got a lot of pleasure from the system it offers to a nearly addictive level, spending high school ignoring my classes to scroll around on RYM if I had access to a computer, sometimes skipping college classes to click around on RYM, could dump hours upon hours into making custom charts and compiling lists. I’ve lost days of my life mechanically copying RYM charts into offsite playlists or even writing them down, because the system of order and category provided such a strong incentive for my attention. but on the other end of a decade of that I’ve watched my personality and cognition more intensely mirror the format of the site, even if at first it felt like the other way around: that the site was mirroring my desires. at this point I think it’s the source of them and something sort of corruptive and corrosive. people aren’t meant to understand their leisure time through intense categorization and hierarchy. we shouldn’t be trying to find the niches microlabels possible to give everything its precise Order and then pretend that the neologism we’ve assigned to pieces of music (that much of the user base might have not even been alive at the time of their release, in many cases with these new genres) is somehow its Essence. the order isn’t its essence. I don’t think you’re conveying any meaningful, historical aesthetic information by randomly grouping a bunch of records as “Pigfuck” like we’re an aggregate volunteer force of Christgaus, let alone Hauntology per Fisher’s analysis per Derrida re: Burial. i don’t know how to put it but it feels like something important is getting lost in translation through the form and function of RYM. i don’t think I was supposed to develop as a consumer of music with the appetite prescribed by RYM instead of a participant. and if you’re not going to be a participant you should at least be bringing something new to the table as a writer / curator instead of being even lower on the food chain than the writers, being the person who turns what the old guard of critics said into an ordered product category. it all feels like the wrong way to be engaging with art

[deadpoetsandlivinglegends]

Oh gosh ok let’s do this

3 ships I like

I’m gonna avoid dps because this is a dps blog so that feels like cheating

Scooby gang (Fred, Daphne, Velma, and Shaggy, not Scooby tho cause he is like their dog-child, but I ship it platonically, found family trope, or as a polycule, I don’t really care I just like when it’s all of them together), Anne and Diana (specifically the Anne of green gables first novel, let me tell you, I have made some of my friends endure me rambling on to persuade them into believing these two are better than Anne and Gilbert when some of them didn’t even know of the novel or anything before, like love Gilbert, and him and Anne can be cute but Anne and Diana are something else, I swear, I fight for this ship), and last is bob and Linda belcher from bobs burgers

Two honorable mentions cause it’s basically a case of I just like everyone so I would have to use all 3 ships in one go if I said these series are Six of Crows and The Raven Cycle series

First ship ever

I think it was probably Milo and Kida from Atlantis: The Lost Empire when I was a kid

Last song I heard

Scared of My Gutair - Olivia Rodrigo

Favorite Childhood book

In 4th grade I was really into the amulet series, I remember nothing about it besides it is a fantasy graphic novel that has a redhead and her brother but I know I loved those books and read them obsessively

Currently Reading

Not currently reading one (unless my college textbooks count), but the last one I read was Picture of Dorian Gray by Oscar Wilde and like a week before that I read Solitaire by Alice oseman for the 3rd or 4th time

Currently Watching

Just watched Scream (1996) today

Currently Consuming

Was about to go make another cup of coffee if that counts

Currently Craving

That fifth Infinity Train season focused on Amelia that we will never get (I know this is supposed to be food but god why did they have to cancel infinity train, I love that show)

No pressure tags: @the-deadest-poet @rywritess And of course anyone who wants to

9 10 Fandom Folks to Get to Know Better

Thanks so much for the tag @schofielded !!

3 Ships I Like

Okay so I’m currently writing for Anderperry so they have to be at the top of the list, Reddie is my beloved which I fear will follow me throughout my life so they’re next, and hmm idk what to put for my third one since I like to read for a lot of ships and have barely written for others. I think I’ll go with a surprise pick and say Boreo! Tragic gays for the win

First Ship Ever

Omg I actually cannot say it was too embarrassing. The first one I’m willing to say is Larry which is also embarrassing and I regret it but I fear the fanfic was so good sorry.

Last Song I Heard

Drums of Death by FKA Twigs. I am addicted, something about the beat is just so good.

Favorite Childhood Book

This is kind of hard for me because I mainly had author phases as a kid rather than just one book that I adored. Looking back, though, I would probably say The Tale of Despereaux by Kate DiCamillo was my favorite. Her descriptions were so good that it made me want to eat paper like the mice.

Currently Reading

Four Minutes by Nataliya Deleva! It’s a queer Bulgarian novel I’m reading for my around the world goal and I’m really enjoying it so far!

Currently Watching

Just finished watching Swing Girls (2004) so I’m counting it since I’m between TV shows right now. Anyway the movie was so cute and feel-good, I definitely recommend!!

Currently Consuming

I had fried chicken for dinner if that’s what this is referring to. Anyway it was good!

Currently Craving

A strawberry limeade with added coconut and cream from Sonic 💔 I don’t have my car rn so I am stranded sadly

No pressure tags: @neil-perrys-suicidal-tendencies @vinesandvellichor @good--merits-accumulated @lc-27 @axe-76 @dreadedwhim @poetrusic1959 @yawping-poets-society @scriptscraps @neilperryismine + open to anyone who wants to join!!

[softlypaintedseafoam]

🍓ー thank you for your patronage at the strawberry witch's bakery! here's your order!

requested by: @hash-slinging-slasher-trash 🍓-> ace + strawberry shortcake (starry nights)

Laughter erupts from the two you before any words are exchanged. You've spent a fair amount of your life hiding in alleys with Portgas D. Ace, you doubt that will change any time soon.

"Out of all the traits you kept, you kept dine and dashing," you slap your hand over your mouth. A block away you hear the mob of angry restaurateurs; cooks, waiters, hostesses. "If you're not scaring the locals with your narcolepsy, you're pissing them off when you run out."

"We thanked them for the meal, didn't we?" Ace snickers, boyishly charming in the moon's glow. Date nights between pirates aren't necessarily the most unconventional occasions, all things considered.

You find privacy where you can on the ship, enjoy a dinner or two at a restaurant when on dry land… Well, considering you're technically criminals, perhaps dashing after dining is a more common occurrence between romantically-involved pirates than you originally thought.

You snort as your laughter subsides. If you close your eyes, it's easy to pretend the frustrated staff behind you are the ones from Dawn Island. Now that you've gone and Luffy has certainly embarked on his journey across the seas, you're sure they've all celebrated. No more losses; at least not from you three. "If only being polite paid," you lean against the coolness of the brick wall behind you.

Ace sighs, nodding in agreement. "It's a damn shame," he's smiling despite his laments that reality is quite the travesty.

In theory it would have been easy to pay. Typically, you do. There used to even be chance games like rock, paper, scissors to decide who'd be paying off the angry horde next.

Most certainly, in theory, it also would have been easy to stay on the Moby and eat for free.

It's a childish impulse really; one that possesses you strongly from time to time.

Easy as it is to pay ー even with the ungodly amount of food Ace consumes ー sometimes it's more fun to run. It's oddly freeing to laugh and shriek out your gratitude. See Ace's hair tussled by the wind, his hat hanging on simply by the cord clinging to his neck. It makes you feel like a kid again; something only amplified by how freeing the night feels with the moon and stars above.

Furthermore, who is going to stay on the Moby when Swiftshell is new and uncharted land? Autumn islands have always been your favorite; you have to enjoy it while you're here.

It isn't until the coast is clear that the two of you disembark from your hideaway in the alley, fingers snugly intertwined.

"That worked up my appetite," Ace sniffs. You can't help but wonder where everything he eats goes. You're sure you've seen your boyfriend eat more food combined in one sitting than what a man of Whitebeard's stature should consume. "We should grab some local specialties from the souvenir shops before we set sail tomorrow. I really liked those spicy chips they have. Pops'll need something light on the stomach though…"

You airily nudge your side into his, "alright, but we're paying that person, at least." Ace makes a noise that's a cross between a snicker and something agreeable.

With that sorted, you swing your hands between you both, enjoying the warm-tinted breeze. True autumn may be your preference, but an autumn island's spring is quite pleasant when mixed with the natural heat Ace exudes. You give his hand a squeeze, lips curling pleasantly when you feel a squeeze in return.

[secondarysefikura]

Today's sefikura thoughts:

Sephiroth feeding parts of himself to Cloud. It starts small, with him slipping small chunks of cooked flesh into Cloud's food or dripping a bit of blood into something, but with time it progresses. The more times Cloud fails to notice that there is something wrong with his food, the more bold Sephiroth becomes. Soon he begins to phase out all other forms of meat from Cloud's diet, instead replacing it with his own flesh.

He feeds Cloud his organs, enjoying the fact Cloud has no idea that he is consuming his heart, his liver, his intestines. He has great fun disguising his flesh and organs as food Cloud will willingly (or, as willingly as you'd expect from Cloud) eat.

And when Cloud finds out? Well now that the cat is out of the bag there is no need for him to hide the truth anymore. Cloud can now eat directly from the source, whether he likes it or not.

Either he will eat or he will starve, and Sephiroth has no intention in letting him starve.

[yogurtbird]

a cannibalistic reading of fool's table (sloppily glued together) because they're sending me to the psych ward soon /ref

[cannibalism, blood, so on and so forth]

original mv thoughts

the original and the drdt mv differ a lot but drdtdev did pick the song -> there are thoughts to be had rattling around my brain

natori notoriously uses the same character for the majority of song mvs, so despite the difference in hairstyles, the two human characters are likely the 'same'

fool's table is (presumably) about natori's bitterness towards shallow and negative sentiment towards his work and how he feels about his success despite them

guy on the table is dressed as seen in overdose (natori's most popular work)

fool's table is, in essence, natori's self-expression of frustration, conflicting forms of creativity, agony of having to serve 'an audience of pigs', and triumph

end of mv ->

pigs are gone! and so is overdose guy.

suspicious glass of wine that (from the rest of the mv) is very likely blood of some form

could be argued that the blood is from the pigs, but given that the pigs seem to be deflated with no blood in sight and with the shot of the wine (alleged) getting onto the tablecloth, i'm choosing to read it as overdose

the pigs also did get their montage shot of being food earlier so for the sake of consumption economy management it's probably overdose /j

hey why'd he eat that guy ->

a lot of artists feel limited by their 'one hit wonder' songs - it brings them fame, as well as more negative opinions and expectations for future songs

overdose is being 'served' to an audience of pigs and despite his distress, he's being eaten <- this is perpetrated by the server, because natori is constantly serving his own music to a hungry audience, even if the original feelings behind it are trampled in the process

server relishing a clean and isolated glass of 'wine' (not really) is representative of natori moving on from the fame that 'defined' him in spite of the audience

so what's with this shot ->

with the prior context in mind, this reads as a mocking invitation to the audience watching the video to participate in the consumption of overdose

the song is about his frustration with the audience; he wants to remind them that they have a part to play in how his music is interacted with

in terms of visual evidence; this shot is always paired with the pigs in position to eat around the table + the cutlery used by the pigs and offered by the server is the same

2. drdt mv

hey man what the hell ->

as one of the only shots that the drdt mv shares with the original, there's a significant possibility that drdtdev just liked the composition and had a different meaning in mind

however, because yogurtbird is crazy,

reading this as a metatextual invitation from mai to 'us' to participate in the consumption of teruko

the audience doesn't have nearly as much of an influence in-universe as it does in the original mv so far, but there are a lot of signs for 'audience' being central to the series (killing game being broadcasted, monoTV, the fact that v3 is one of the medias directly inspiring it)

if it is about the audience (us), this seems like a straightforward metaphor for how the audience is consuming the story through teruko's point of view (maybe on a more meta v3 level, 'perpetuating' teruko's suffering by engaging with the media (BUT THESE ARE JUST MY CRAZY THOUGHTS ...) do not go developing guilt about consuming the media because of tumblr user yogurtbird's crazy one off thought)

the audience might not also be 'us', but rather a different group of people (drdt cast?)

the first stab is a parallel to xander's initial attack on teruko

why would mai do this ->

mai is commonly portrayed as someone nice and kind; it seems contradictory that she's portrayed doing something so cruel

however, considering the fact that mai was involved in an Incident with xander that had catastrophic effects + xander was able to be convinced to stab teruko despite being adamantly against the action + teruko's hypothetical secret, it's in the realm of consideration

this 'mai' might not be mai akasaki as she was alive - there's the xander knife parallel which temporally occurs after her theorized death + this 'mai' might be a haunting of her (dead wife haunting the narrative isms)

why so yurious ->

i'm sorry happy yuri community please fly free from the post now for the sake of your happiness /lhj

they're both happy here, and i am concretely of the opinion that this part of the mv is probably just joyous terumai. but i'm not gonna leave a cannibalistic analysis half-assed

on giving up ->

mai and teruko are posed as direct foils here, and neither seems particularly genuinely friendly about it

staring each other head on, they're both rejecting each other's 'ways of eating' with how messy teruko is and how pristine mai is

i don't think that this means they were never close or that they never connected - i'm pretty sure the drdt mv is supposed to be read as terumai growing closer over time despite this conflict. what i really mean is that conflicting ideals existed

owie ->

teruko's expression in these shots noticeably goes from slight unease to crying while smiling

through this lens, teruko isn't crying out of relief -> it's a bittersweet sense of letting go of something (hyper-independence? isolation? freedom?)

she's 'conceding' to mai in that she signs up to mai's ideals and they become "fools dancing on the same table"

'nothing will be taken from us' 'our pain and everything is spinning'

things were in fact taken from them

foreboding and ominous nature

more thoughts to be had but i have to do things . uhm. read @/1moreff-creator's post on the mv for a more canon-accurate opinion

guys this is at least $30 in macarons can we at least spare one dish

[clarisse0o]

The Mayor - Chapter 27

Lucy Bronze x Ona Batlle

Alternate Universe: Mayor and Architect

Words: 1000

Masterlist

———————————————————————

My brain was an open construction site, impossible to organize. I had completely lost control of the situation, Lucy’s words replaying endlessly in my mind.  

I tried to avoid Alessia as much as possible at the start of the week, guilt gnawing at me from the inside. I had pretended to be at a construction site far from the city.  

And then came the climactic point: Thursday, the day we were to sign the papers to buy the house, marking the beginning of a new chapter together.  

Lucy had sent me a message on Monday:  

 "How are you today?"   

I should have replied with the truth:  "I have a knot in my stomach, I can’t stop thinking about what you said, I feel awful."   

Instead, I typed:  

 "I’m fine, thanks. And you?"   

A pitiful response.  

 "I see you’re not in the mood to talk. I’ll wait until you’re ready. And I meant what I said yesterday."   

I didn’t reply.  

I didn’t know what to say, how to respond, or even what to do. As usual, I fled from the problem, refusing to face it head-on.  

The days passed, consumed by painful questioning and endless self-doubt.  

By Thursday morning, I was utterly exhausted. I hadn’t slept a wink, spending the entire night thinking.  

I convinced myself that I needed to grow up, that my relationship with Alessia was solid, and that I couldn’t throw it all away for a fleeting passion. Lucy had confessed that it was more than just sex between us. Fine, but where would that lead? Nowhere.  

I also decided not to tell Alexia about my lapse. She would never forgive me.  

 "You look awful! Still not over your food poisoning?"  Alexia teased as she arrived.  

I had lied about food poisoning to explain my absence from the presentation in Lyon on Sunday morning. She gave me a playful wink and added:  

 "So, today’s the big day! You’re officially becoming a responsible adult with this house purchase!"   

If only she knew. I had wanted to tell her everything so many times, to confide in her. But I couldn’t. Lucy had asked me not to speak of our affair. And deep down, I was afraid of disappointing my friend.  

So, I stayed silent, bottling it all up.  

 "Yep, first purchase for a new life!"   

I delivered the sentence in a flat, monotone voice.  

 "Cheer up, Ona! At this rate, the notary might refuse to let you sign those papers!"  she laughed.  "I’m so happy you two are together. You’re perfect for each other!"   

Her words warmed my heart. She was right.  

That afternoon, I was supposed to have lunch with Alessia at the main square before heading to the notary’s office. It was the first time I’d seen her since the weekend, and I felt a deep apprehension. Could I lie to her, hide all this?  

She arrived with a radiant smile—the smile I loved so much, the one that always eased my doubts and instantly loosened the knot in my throat.  

 "Hi, my love! I missed you this week! Tell me everything, I don’t even know how it went in Lyon! Judging by your face, it must have been exhausting,"  she laughed.  

I was so ashamed.  

Still, I recounted the weekend briefly, changing the subject quickly. I was lying to her, something I had never done before. Our relationship had always been built on unwavering trust in one another. But I couldn’t tell her about this—it would destroy her. Destroy us.  

The lunch passed quickly. Alessia talked about her latest surgery, an open-heart operation on a newborn. She always impressed me—such a talented surgeon, yet so humble.  

As we sipped our coffee, my thoughts were interrupted by a laugh behind me, a laugh I recognized all too well. I turned.  

It was Lucy, seated at the counter, drinking coffee with two other men.  

My throat tightened. What were the odds of her being in this café?  

Actually, quite high, I realized. We were in the main square, opposite the town hall, in the most popular café-restaurant. Why hadn’t I thought of this before?  

Lucy caught my eye. She looked surprised.  

She stopped talking, excused herself from her companions, and walked toward us.  

No. Not this. What are you doing, Lucy?  

 "Hello!"   

She stood in front of us, a wide smile on her lips.  

 "Hello, Madame Bronze! Nice to see you again!"  Alessia replied warmly.  

 "Likewise! How are you?"   

Alessia answered, politely returning the question. I didn’t say a word—I couldn’t speak.  

 "What brings you here?"  Lucy asked.  

She was constantly seeking my gaze, while I desperately avoided hers.  

 "We’re going to the notary’s office! You’re looking at the future homeowners of your town!"  Alessia beamed. Proud. Beautiful.  

Lucy’s face darkened slightly.  

 "Congratulations. I wish you both much happiness. Goodbye."   

She turned on her heel, throwing me one last fleeting glance before walking out the door. A glance that electrified me to my core.  

 "You could have at least said something. I know you don’t like her, but still!"  Alessia scolded me.  

I suddenly felt extremely uncomfortable—clammy hands, a heart pounding uncontrollably. I felt hot and dizzy. The knot in my stomach that had plagued me all week was now unbearable.  

 "I’ll go pay, and then we can head out!"   

She got up to leave.  

I grabbed her hand abruptly, suddenly.  

I looked at her now.  

 "I can’t, Alessia."   

[songofsilentechoes]

The angel closes their eyes.

Soon the world around Chiasa shifts and she sees a much younger Noelle speaking with the angel.

The angel's voice was inside Chiasa's mind.

"She was passionate about music and song. She was fascinated by our choirs and our wings. We were Commanded to bring something precious. What could be more precious that such passions?"

"She offered to help with my mission. I think she was hoping to study it. I feared disappointing her, but I feared failing my command more."

Chiasa watches as the vision of the angel posesses Noelle and they walk away. Chiasa's perception follows.

"She slept while I had control. The time passed as nothing to her."

Noelle is brought to a temple. There, angels seem to be performing some kind of ritual. Magic seems to be expended and vanishes at an altar....but seems to do very little. The angel participates in Noelle's body, before walking her into what appears to be a vault. There, another person walks past, under guard by a towering angel with wings studded with rubies.

Inside, Noelle's body kneels in prayer and mourning, being a conduit for the ritual. Days pass without food, sleep or entertainment.

"...that which was precious was taken. It is needed to open the vault. The innocent must maintain the ritual...a powerful shroud."

"During this time...I took her memories of having that which was precious. Removed them, so she would not miss them. It would seem I did not succeed, if she discovered she was lacking it."

"But the precious thing was not consumed. When we left I....stole it. I buried the contract to hide my name and connection. I did not want the innocent...your child...to become more involved."

"Chiasa." The angel repeated.

When the words slipped from Chiasa's mouth, the air seemed to pulse for a moment. There was no question who the name was referring to. In a phrase, it described them more perfectly than any mortal tongue.

The angel was forced to their knee, and Chiasa could feel the forces binding them to her. Like a leash, she was in control, but could release them at any time. But the connection also went the other way, allowing them to feel her essence.

They stand up again, but their movements are smoother. They stretch out their wings and sit down on the bench, facing Chiasa.

"I was given a Command. It is rare to be blessed with one from the Legacy...and there is no refusing the call. I left my job and sought out my objective."

"I was to claim something precious and someone innocent for my Command. It...took longer than I was comfortable with, but I found her...your daughter. I know not how you're speaking with her, but I can sense her influence on you. We took something precious to her."

"She offered it freely...or rather...she said she would do anything to help. I needed to explain so little before she offered...and I was growing anxious. My Command needed to be obeyed."

"So...I reached out and accepted it. I took her body, as an innocent, and brought her to the temple I saw in my Command. There, we were held for a time, taking what was precious."

"I returned her, safe, as I promised her I would...but she was changed because of us. We tried to make it painless, so she would not mourn the loss...it would seem I...we failed."